Three Muskateers and a Bag of Microwave Popcorn

Ok, to my loyal readers of this blog (ok, one...loyal reader...), I apologize up front for not posting in a while. It's been a strange few weeks...basically my life has been composed of a series of naps, punctuated by the afformentioned food items, speckled with generous portions of alcohol and OTC sleeping aids. So yea...I guess you could call that strange...

Like a scortching case of herpes, my old demons have once again reared their ugly heads, and much to my surprise (or chagrin, only because I really enjoy the word "chagrin"), I've welcomed them with open arms and a smile, in hopes that the devil, "futility", will finally fall at the hands of my mighty sword...ghosts I thought I had more-than excorcised have somehow managed to wage battle against spiritual armies that, while they were supposed to be protecting me, apparently all went out for a smoke break at the same time....

...now, Now, NOW WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE...I'm starting to sound like those medieval re-enactment society chairmen...or at best a trekkie...Don't get me wrong, not that there's anything wrong with those people, but I, for one, am NOT one of them. Nor do I wish to concede to speaking their language and/or wearing novelty t-shirts that say "Talk Nerdy To Me" while hanging out with comic-book-store guy, belching Taco Bell and debating whether or not "Buddy Christ" is a good or bad idea for a christening gift. No no no, I'm not "that guy" (...er, that girl...)...

Ok, that's gonna have to be it for me now. Law and Order is on...or American Idol...or some other garbage tv show that I fixate myself on in order to make me even less fascinating...sometimes it's just too stressful being incredibly fabulous all the time. Hardy, har...har. You know who you are...you can eat a bowl of dicks.

...and by the way, it makes a FUCKING AWESOME christening gift. Seriously.